Helping Hand
by Val-Creative
Summary: "Ooooh, who is this? A nighttime suitor?" Phichit asks, exaggerating a whisper. He looks over the edges of his plastic, magenta shutter-glasses, to Yuuri who protests and frowns. (In which Yuuri and Phichit participate in a Detroit flashmob.) /Pre-canon. Phichuuri. Standalone.


**.**

 **.**

Yuuri's legs ache. There's chunks of sky blue and green Silly String hardening to his bangs.

He's not much for rowdy _celebration_ , wandering on the outskirts and sipping his beer. Stepping over the litter: a collection of mostly full energy drinks and abandoned plates and the metallic, enormous streamers draping to the floor. Phichit and their rinkmates crow along with the booming pop music from the speakers, bouncing on their heels and clapping their hands. Another loud, insistent knock comes from the entrance's door.

Yuuri grimaces, hiding his beer bottle in the sink and wiping his hands.

"It's probably Ciao Ciao!" he shouts back to the party, heading into the corridor. They're already pushing it with the room occupant limit and noise violation to the student housing. Nobody pays him any mind, just as he thought. Yuuri steels himself, gripping onto the door-handle.

 _Please do not be an officer…_

He does not expect a petite, young woman with dark, twin-plaited hair and a rainbow-crop top. Right there in front of him. Staring.

"Hello?" Yuuri asks, plainly confused. She smiles toothily and awkwardly waves one-handed.

"Hi, sorry to bother you. I'm Mina. I live downstairs." Yuuri nods and murmurs out his own name, shaking her brown-skinned, warm hand when Mina presents it. She chuckles and goes on her tiptoes, eyeing the commotion over Yuuri's shoulder. "I'm not interrupting, am I? Is it a birthday party?"

" _Yuuuuuri!_ " Phichit leaps behind him, wrapping his arms snugly to Yuuri's waist and dropping his chin to Yuuri's shoulder. He's been loose-limbed and floppy, overly affectionate since someone brought out tequila shots. Yuuri blushes a little, untangling himself from Phichit's hands. " _Ooooh_ , who is this? A nighttime suitor?" Phichit asks, exaggerating a whisper. He looks over the edges of his plastic, magenta shutter-glasses, to Mina and then Yuuri who protests, frowning.

"I—no! Phichit-kun—!"

"Can't be for _me_ ," Phichit mumbles, grinning secretively and nudging Yuuri with an elbow. Heat rushes up to Yuuri's neck and cheeks. Oh, Yuuri _knows_ that already.

"I was just telling him I lived a couple floors down." Mina holds out a finger and pulls out her mobile-phone. Its case glitters under the fluorescent lighting. "I was wondering if either of you knew if the people living in this room were gonna be here this weekend, around 11pm to 11:30?"

"We both will be… I think?" he replies. "Why?"

She presents out her mobile, to both Phichit and Yuuri who squint their eyes at the saved, black-and-white image. It's a darkened building, but with apartment windows lit up in the shape of a semi-crooked heart. "I'm asking my girlfriend to marry me that night, and I need your lights on." Mina explains, tilting her head shyly, "We'll be on the pier so we'll get the best view it makes. I just need your roller-shade up for a half an hour… it would mean _so much_ …"

"Congratulations!" Phichit yells. He rushes forward to spin-hug her as she squeal-laughs and hugs him back. "You are so lucky, wow! _Of course_ we will help make your heart! Won't we, Yuuri?"

"It's not a problem," Yuuri tells her, smiling faintly. "Congratulations."

" _Thank you_. You were the last room I needed to ask."

After her and Phichit exchange Instagram names, Yuuri nods once more and says goodnight, pulling his roommate back inside their double-room, shutting the door. Mina's happiness is so contagious that Yuuri doesn't mind the _mayhem_ surrounding him, or Phichit's drunk, huggy antics.

 **.**

 **.**

Midterms approach, and things go quiet.

Yuuri's stress climbs to its peak — he focuses less on his training, but continues _thinking_ about needing to skate even while glancing over his lesson notes. He shouldn't. Yuuri finally gives up, burrowing under his covers and flipping off the lights. What's the use…?

Unable to sleep, he hears Phichit enter, halting mid-greeting to the shadows. Yuuri turns over to his side, blinking back tears and staring at his wall in front of him. _Viktor_ wouldn't get like this. He wouldn't _cry_ and be anxious. Yuuri's posters only stare back in glossy, empty cheer.

He shuts his eyes, inhaling deeply.

Yuuri's hand searches down his button-up pajama top, down, _down_ , until his fingers grasp over his own cock stirring in interest.

 _Shouldn't…_

He really shouldn't. Not with his roommate attempting to tip-toe around their bedroom, using his flashlight app to navigate his way.

" _You asleep?_ " Phichit's murmur hits Yuuri's ear.

The other man presses up next to Yuuri, covering his back and slotting their legs, rubbing Yuuri's shoulder a little.

Yuuri bites down a moan, his fingers now clenching down. Phichit's hand follows the path of Yuuri's arm, and he makes a low, awed noise at his discovery. Yuuri's gut tightens with embarrassment.

" _S'okay, Yuuri. Can I help?_ " Phichit murmurs again, nuzzling his nose against Yuuri's nape.

There's nothing until Yuuri breathes out, rocking his hips slow-slowly to his and Phichit's hand situated on his cock. _Yes, yes_ , invades Yuuri's mind, pulsing a wild-fire in his veins.

Phichit must have not changed out of his thermal long-sleeve, or the rest of his skating clothes. He's as fully clothed as Yuuri, but smells strongly like heat and dried perspiration. Phichit's hand, bare and rough, slips under Yuuri's pajama-shorts, outlining his cockhead.

" _Phi…chit_ ," Yuuri groans, ending in a whine burying to his forearm when Phichit's mouth opens to his throat, suckling a raw, nipping kiss. " _Nngn_ …"

That's when Yuuri's mobile chimes, seconds after Phichit's mobile vibrates on the nearby desk.

Yuuri jolts upright, his glasses rattling. Oh, _no_.

He curses, scrambling to his feet, ignoring his raging hard-on and reaching for the light-switch.

"Owww, _Yuuri_ ," Phichit complains softly. The other man winces and shields his face as the yellowed, overhead light hits Phichit's eyes. "What do you have against warning somebody first…?"

"We forgot!" Yuuri cries out, eyes widening.

He grabs the bedroom window's roller-shade, pulling down and letting it fly up towards the top. "It's only by a couple seconds, it's fine," Phichit insists, smiling good-naturedly and taking hold of Yuuri's wrist, tugging him in. "Their proposal isn't _ruined_. It's fine, Yuuri."

It takes a long, silent moment, but Yuuri's body lessens its tension.

Phichit smiles and laughs, tugging him gently, until Yuuri sits comfortably on top of him, his knees spread apart.

"… _Sorry_ ," he murmurs, gazing down.

Phichit leans in and shrugs casually, arms hugging Yuuri. Their lips grazing. "Your _nighttime suitor_ forgives you," Phichit announces, stifling out a laugh as Yuuri's mouth twitches up, opening against his.

 **.**

 **.  
**

* * *

 _Yuri on Ice isn't mine. IT'S THE END OF PHICHUURI WEEK ON TUMBLR, BUT I HAD TO DO AT LEAST ONE THING! I chose "Day 7: Days in Detroit" since it's the last day prompt available! TBH I still love these two. It never interferes with my love of Viktuuri. Thoughts/comments appreciated! Any Phichuuri shippers still out there?_


End file.
